her?”
I nodded. He was right, she was a regular, and she was nice. I couldn’t see her trying to blow up my business. During our last talk, it was clear to me that she loved the place.
“You know this woman?” Kennedy came to stand in front of me and gripped my shoulders.
I looked at him levelly. “I don’t know her, exactly, but she’s here nearly every day. She was married to the original owner.” A little detail I’d found out from Dex, who she’d taken a liking to. He’d even talked her into buying instead of loitering, which was a marked improvement, in my opinion.
“So you’ve talked to her. Do you trust her?”
I shrugged. “Just once, and I wouldn’t say that. I hardly know her, but I can’t see her doing anything malicious. She seems nice.” If not a little lonely. It was the main reason why I made an exception that night, allowing her to use the Employee Only restroom.
He looked like he didn’t believe me. “Well, until we’re certain nothing untoward is going on, I think you should stick to the no-public-bathroom policy.”
“Untoward?” I chuckled.
“It’s the word of the day on my word calendar.” Bending down, Kennedy stole a quick kiss. “Now, what do you say we head back and get started on those cookies? We have a lot of time to make up for.”
I groaned as he steered me by the shoulders toward the kitchen. “Hold down the fort,” I called out to Dex.
“Aye aye, Captain!”
Once in the kitchen, Kennedy guided me to the counter, and then bent at the waist. Fitting his hands under my arms, he picked me up and plopped me down on the stainless steel counter. “Ow! Freaking A, Harper, that hurt .” I grimaced, massaging my armpits. Either I was too fat to still be lifted like a child, or I had discovered a form of child abuse.
“Sorry, sweet,” Kennedy said with contrition. “Next time I’ll scoop you up like a lady instead.”
“Screw treating me like a lady. I want to see what the fireman’s hold is all about.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Kennedy laughed. “I like how you think, woman.” With another kiss that was far too short and innocent, he set to work gathering everything he needed to whip up his secret snickerdoodle recipe.
Under strict instruction, I sat, restlessly kicking my legs and craning my neck to peer over his shoulder, as he baked. It was a long and arduous process during which I discovered that I could survive precisely one hour and twenty-two minutes before needing a sugar fix to avoid a headache, and that I had an acute case of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder with a possible hyperactive tendency. Sitting and waiting was for the birds! I needed to be involved. Active. Shoulder deep in flour and eggs.
“Okay, enough sitting around,” I announced with a clap of my hands. Jumping down from the counter, I set my hands on my hips. “Give me something to do. Need help mixing? I’m your girl. Or I could roll the balls?”
Kennedy gave me a wicked look over his shoulder, and I realized what I had said. “You can roll the balls all you want, sweet.”
“Dirty, dirty boy, you are.” Wagging my finger, I crossed to the first oven and stuck my hands in a pair of mitts. “These are ready to come out.” Without waiting for instruction, I pulled the two trays out and stuck another two in. “They look really great,” I told Kennedy as I scraped the golden mounds onto cooling racks.
“They are great.” Coming up behind me, he reached around to select one, and then held it up to my mouth. “Here, try one.”
Turning to face him, I held his eyes as I sank my teeth into the cookie. The moan that ripped from me was unintentional and completely genuine. I’d tasted some great desserts in my lifetime—had made most of them myself—but Kennedy’s cookies were positively sinful. Soft, moist, and chewy, the flavors were simple but definitely not lacking.
“Good, huh?”
“God, they’re perfect.” I bit off another chunk, closing
I nodded. He was right, she was a regular, and she was nice. I couldn’t see her trying to blow up my business. During our last talk, it was clear to me that she loved the place.
“You know this woman?” Kennedy came to stand in front of me and gripped my shoulders.
I looked at him levelly. “I don’t know her, exactly, but she’s here nearly every day. She was married to the original owner.” A little detail I’d found out from Dex, who she’d taken a liking to. He’d even talked her into buying instead of loitering, which was a marked improvement, in my opinion.
“So you’ve talked to her. Do you trust her?”
I shrugged. “Just once, and I wouldn’t say that. I hardly know her, but I can’t see her doing anything malicious. She seems nice.” If not a little lonely. It was the main reason why I made an exception that night, allowing her to use the Employee Only restroom.
He looked like he didn’t believe me. “Well, until we’re certain nothing untoward is going on, I think you should stick to the no-public-bathroom policy.”
“Untoward?” I chuckled.
“It’s the word of the day on my word calendar.” Bending down, Kennedy stole a quick kiss. “Now, what do you say we head back and get started on those cookies? We have a lot of time to make up for.”
I groaned as he steered me by the shoulders toward the kitchen. “Hold down the fort,” I called out to Dex.
“Aye aye, Captain!”
Once in the kitchen, Kennedy guided me to the counter, and then bent at the waist. Fitting his hands under my arms, he picked me up and plopped me down on the stainless steel counter. “Ow! Freaking A, Harper, that hurt .” I grimaced, massaging my armpits. Either I was too fat to still be lifted like a child, or I had discovered a form of child abuse.
“Sorry, sweet,” Kennedy said with contrition. “Next time I’ll scoop you up like a lady instead.”
“Screw treating me like a lady. I want to see what the fireman’s hold is all about.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.
Kennedy laughed. “I like how you think, woman.” With another kiss that was far too short and innocent, he set to work gathering everything he needed to whip up his secret snickerdoodle recipe.
Under strict instruction, I sat, restlessly kicking my legs and craning my neck to peer over his shoulder, as he baked. It was a long and arduous process during which I discovered that I could survive precisely one hour and twenty-two minutes before needing a sugar fix to avoid a headache, and that I had an acute case of Adult Attention Deficit Disorder with a possible hyperactive tendency. Sitting and waiting was for the birds! I needed to be involved. Active. Shoulder deep in flour and eggs.
“Okay, enough sitting around,” I announced with a clap of my hands. Jumping down from the counter, I set my hands on my hips. “Give me something to do. Need help mixing? I’m your girl. Or I could roll the balls?”
Kennedy gave me a wicked look over his shoulder, and I realized what I had said. “You can roll the balls all you want, sweet.”
“Dirty, dirty boy, you are.” Wagging my finger, I crossed to the first oven and stuck my hands in a pair of mitts. “These are ready to come out.” Without waiting for instruction, I pulled the two trays out and stuck another two in. “They look really great,” I told Kennedy as I scraped the golden mounds onto cooling racks.
“They are great.” Coming up behind me, he reached around to select one, and then held it up to my mouth. “Here, try one.”
Turning to face him, I held his eyes as I sank my teeth into the cookie. The moan that ripped from me was unintentional and completely genuine. I’d tasted some great desserts in my lifetime—had made most of them myself—but Kennedy’s cookies were positively sinful. Soft, moist, and chewy, the flavors were simple but definitely not lacking.
“Good, huh?”
“God, they’re perfect.” I bit off another chunk, closing
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